


and when your skin touches mine (you don't even know)

by woojin



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Alternate Universe - High School, Alternate Universe - Teachers, M/M, Porn With Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-25
Updated: 2017-03-25
Packaged: 2018-10-10 07:28:55
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,652
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10432338
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/woojin/pseuds/woojin
Summary: Ten develops feelings for the new Englsh teacher, as much as he denies it.





	

**Author's Note:**

> 1\. this took embarassingly long to write  
> 2\. please dont look at me

“Okay, practice the routine one more time. I want to see all of you put your heart in it. If you slack, I’ll call you out.” Ten said (shouted) as he stood a wide distance from the dance team. The school had been preparing for a football game this upcoming Friday, and the much expected performance had to be perfect. Did he teach many talented dancers? Yes. Did he trust them to follow his orders? Absolutely not.

A junior, Na Jaemin, had his foot pointed in the opposite direction, which would have caused him to execute a flip that could potentially injure him. Jaemin’s footsteps were light, airy, and carefree. He was currently competing with Huang Renjun, another junior, for the affection of Lee Jeno, the star football player. Both boys knew that by outshining the other during the routine, they could get his attention. He admits, without knowing the fact that his students literally tell him everything that goes on in their lives, it comes off as being a bit nosy.

“Jaemin, other direction. Your foot.”

Jaemin turns it. Renjun snickers.

“Chenle. You’re too far from Donghyuck. Move closer.” They were working on the opening formation. If that’s messed up, the dance can’t continue. 

Ten picked his aces for this one. The only one who wasn’t present was Mark, and Ten had only let him go home because he could rely on Mark to know the routine.

The clock had hit 1:00. The boys had been staring at this for a very long time, itching to be free from Ten’s grasp. He was someone that was very fun to talk to outside of class, but a very harsh and precise teacher. He couldn’t help it. Who else would push them?

Now it was his lunch period. A whole hour without students talking to him was a blessing. He enjoyed teaching, in fact, he was happy to give his expertise on his passion to students that were in his place. A bit of peace and quiet was all he wanted sometimes. 

Ten had went outside the dance room and walked to the cafeteria, and was in the line for the teacher’s bar. In front of him was a man. A very tall man. He was hunched down, switching between cards, looking for one of them, probably his credit card. Ten’s head reached near to his shoulder. He completely blocked the view of anything in front. 

The man found his card. He turned around, looking for anyone. He grabbed a tray and went searching around, looking uncomfortable. He seemed to be new, which was odd, because it was the middle of the semester, and the school rarely hired anyone in the middle of the semester unless someone went on maternity or paternity leave. They rarely fired people either. If that were the case, Ten would have seen Yuta’s chemistry classroom in place of a new teacher ages ago.

 

When Ten had finished browsing around for food, he was waiting to pay for it in line. The very tall man from before had been pulling a card out of his bag, most likely to type in his teacher identification to pay for it. This went on for maybe two agonizingly long minutes, and at last Ten had had enough. (He really couldn’t watch his attempt to put in the unique 12 digit for the seventh time.)

“Hey, I’ll pay for you.” Ten typed the identification numbers quickly, without hesitation, and the card was confirmed. Ten had began to walk away, until the man tapped his shoulder.

“Wait, hold up,” he said, holding the tray with a death grip, so that he wouldn’t let go and drop it. “Thank you for paying for me. Today’s my first day — “

“I can tell.” Ten replied, with a laugh. He looked up at him, and then right back down his long body. His hair was longer, and he wore glasses. His eyebrows were defined. He was massive, for lack of a better word, but didn’t seem to have much muscle, rather just lean. He wore the typical shirt and tie teacher apparel, and his lips puckered when he stared at Ten.

“Can I sit with you? I know this isn’t actual high school, but everyone seems to know each other here. It’d be nice to have a start.” the man said, shyly.

The two of them ended up sitting in the man with no name’s room, just because he had desks, and proceeded to introduce themselves. 

“I’m Seo Youngho, or John Seo. It says John Seo on the tag, that’s my legal name in America, and when I applied here, I didn’t bother telling them I had a Korean name.”

Ten was chewing on his food. “What do you teach? English?”

“You got me. I do teach English.” he pushed up the middle of his glasses.

“I speak English, much better than I do Korean.” Ten said, switching languages. “It’s easier for me.”

“What’s your name, then? You’re definitely a foreigner. I can tell by your accent.”

“You aren’t much better,” Ten said back. “I’m Ten.”

“Like the number?”

“Yes. Like the number. I’m Thai. We don’t use our legal names.”

“So people just call you Ten?” Youngho asked, in mild disbelief.

“Yes.”

“Even your students?”

“Yes. I hate them calling me Mr., anyway. It feels too formal. Anyway, I teach dance.”

“You can dance? That’s admirable. I can’t dance for shit.” Youngho said, staring at his salad as he spoke.

“I find it more often that people who say they can’t dance have the knack to learn. People who think they can usually can’t.” Ten had responded calmly.

Throughout the rest of the period, Ten and Youngho had talked about many things. Chicago is apparently much quieter than what people expect it to be, although he admitted there are some loud places. Ten told Youngho about his time as a relatively upper class teenager in Bangkok, having the privilege of going to a school built by the English many years before. 

“How did you come to Korea?” Youngho asked him.

“I was a trainee for an idol company. Had auditions —” he coughed, clearing his throat. “ — in Bangkok. I passed, and begged my parents to let me finish high school and go.”

“Granted, I never really wanted to be an idol. I thought I did, but I knew that being an idol would allow me to get professional dance classes, and even go to a dance school. I just wanted the experience. When I think about it as an adult now, I probably should have compiled money to go to Korea and study in a dance school, I could definitely afford to do it. Younger me though, just decided I could sign a contract, go to school, and when I’m done, leave.”

Youngho had finished college in the United States. He was a mathematics major. Youngho really liked math, and Ten could see that he probably would much rather teach it than English. 

“Math is interesting simply because there’s no unpredictability. There’s a set of rules and you follow them. There’s a reasonable, logical explanation as to why everything is the way it is. Else, the calculations are wrong. Often it seems that it doesn’t make sense, but how come discoveries from ancient Greece are still used today? Math is not something that evolves, unlike dance. It is the same from birth and death.”

Ten stared at the way Youngho’s cheeks rose when he smiled. Frankly, he couldn’t believe he was paying attention to someone geeking out about the most boring subject in the fucking world. Ten had seen Youngho’s every move while they spoke, felt the sensation, and then perceived it. He pushed his hair behind his ear. His accent came out here. He keeps tapping his foot, out of anxiety. Is he nervous because of me? Or is he existentially nervous?

The bell rang. Ten stood up abruptly, slipping on the (very dry) ground while trying to hide the glow on his face while leaving Youngho’s room. 

“Whoa, slow down, are you okay?” Ten had practically fell on his ass. It wasn’t his proudest moment. Youngho held out his (fucking huge) arm and Ten’s arm looked weak in comparison, just by sheer weight.

Ten grabbed it and held himself up. He dusted himself off and tried to play it off. “I’m okay. Thanks.”

“Wanna sit together tomorrow?” he smiled. 

Ten could feel the goosebumps rise on his arm, the one Youngho had just gripped on earlier. “Of course. I’d love to.”

 

***

Ten unlocked the apartment door. “I’m home,” he said to no one. In his mind, Jaehyun still lived with him, and they were still in college. It had been about two years since he had left for America. In his mind, Ten couldn’t comprehend that Jaehyun was living in the same realm as him. As the distance grew farther apart, so did their friendship.

It was natural. Ten held no resentment for Jaehyun. Occasionally, he called him, just to hear his voice. Sometimes, he wished there a human soul to keep him grounded, and happy.

While Jaehyun had been gone, Ten had pursued multiple flings with multiple men. He had been in a casual relationship with a writer for an up-and-coming sketch comedy show, Doyoung, who was his age. Doyoung’s humor was dry and very biting. Ten had found that attractive about him at the beginning, but eventually he became tired of his every move being mocked.

After him was Hansol, who taught at the dance school Ten also taught at during the weekends. Hansol was two years older, and despite them both being adults, it was only then did he realize that two years can mean a lot. One thing Ten could say was good was the sex. They had a lot of sex. Emotionally speaking, however, he was very distant. Ten could not sense how Hansol felt about quite literally anything. Their bodies were very in-sync though. Hansol still called him for sex every once in awhile, and only once did Ten say yes, about a year ago, but also that was at about 2 a.m., and he was drunk off his fucking mind, and he was super horny. 

He slept with Yuta, sometimes out of sheer boredom. One thing Ten liked about Yuta was his ability to brush everything off. He didn’t take many things seriously, and that was really all Ten needed. If his students learned that he was sleeping with Yuta, oh yeah, he’d definitely be fucked. His students knew about Doyoung, and about Hansol (but not the sex). Hansol was a risk that he then was willing to take; a few of his kids attended the dance school and were also in the dance program at the high school. How they figured out about Doyoung, he’ll never learn.

He layed in bed, after showering and eating a light dinner. No, he didn’t like Youngho. They talked for what, an hour? This will pass like it always does. Youngho probably is dating someone, or is not interested.

However, what he found attractive about Youngho was his initial shyness and his eventual warm-up to Ten. Most men were afraid of him, and created in-control personas to assert their dominance. Youngho hadn’t done any of that yet, and the more Ten thought about it, Youngho wasn’t shy, just careful.

He decided to sleep on it, but not before he called Yuta. Yuta picked up after the fourth ring.

“Hey,” Ten said softly. He didn’t know why his voice was quiet. There was nothing to hide.

“Hey. What’s up. I didn’t see you come by during your lunch break.” Yuta said. There was a long pause. “Are you calling to fuck or something, because I can’t. Not right now, at least. I’m grading tests.”

“Can you comprehend actually having a healthy friendship with me?” he groaned at the vulgar tone Yuta had used.

“I’m doing that right now.”

“I’m hanging up.”

“No, don’t. I need a human to talk to me while I grade these —” he paused again. “ — tests. If you can call a bunch of unrecognizable scribbled words and numbers an answer to a question.”

“Anyway, have you seen the new English teacher? He’s actually from America.”

“I had lunch with him instead of dealing with your annoying ass.” Ten said, feeling a little proud that people were interested in Youngho.

“You don’t find my ass annoying during —”

“Moving on, he’s …. nice.”

“Oh, god.” Yuta sighed. There was another pause, and Ten could faintly hear the sounds of him swallowing something. “You always say this when you’re interested in someone.”

“I don’t.”  
“Yes, you do. Now, I know what you’re gonna do next. You’re gonna deny your feelings for a long time. Finally, when you realize you like Youngho, he’s already gonna lose interest. What you should do is show him you like him. Make him feel special.”

“I don’t know if I like him, though. I spoke to him for an hour at most.” Ten wallowed, turning over in his bed.

“The fact that you’re complaining about this to me shows that you obviously have some sort of concern about your feelings.”

There was silence. He was right. This pissed Ten off.

“Go to sleep. You’ll feel better in the morning, and you’ll have a clearer conscious.” Yuta added, sweetly, surprisingly without sarcasm.

 

“Fine, good night.”

“Good night.”

 

***

 

Chenle complained to Ten for what felt like the ten thousandth time about the time of the dance team’s performance. “My piano recital overlaps with it, please, can we change it. It’s super important. Someone really important came from China to evaluate me.”

What Ten wanted to do was scream and tell him he’s literally the fucking dance teacher and whatever he says means absolutely nothing. Sports always comes before the performing arts. He does as he was told. That was that, and what was given was received.

“Chenle, I’ve told you, I can’t change it. I’m sorry.”

He pouted, and went to sit down next to Jisung.

While the team practiced, he was in the clouds. He couldn’t tell the kids the right moves, and got Renjun mixed up with Jaemin (which enraged both of them, especially with Renjun’s fiery red hair. Even he couldn’t understand why he had mistaken them himself.). 

Finally, he said, “Kids, rest. I’ve worked you enough.” he meant that, he had been probably the most irritating teacher in the world these past few weeks. He couldn’t explain what was distracting him. No, it wasn’t Youngho. (Yes, it was.)

The bell rang, just as Chenle was chanting at Renjun to fight Jaemin. Ten didn’t stop them, simply because they never kept the promise of beating the other up. Ten knew high school boys, on the inside, they were all a bunch of cowards. It was a bit mean to call his students cowardly, however, if they really weren’t afraid of what the other could do them, or what Jeno would think if they fought, then they would have done so ages ago.

In Ten’s head, it was all just white noise. He hadn’t realized that he had been staring at the bright lights in the dance room for five minutes until he heard footsteps entering. 

It was Youngho, of course, and today he was wearing a cardigan that fit him perfectly. He also wore a different pair of glasses. “Ten? Hello?”

He walked up to him, waving his hand in front of Ten’s face. “Earth to Ten,” he waved a bit more quickly. Finally, Ten had understood that he wasn’t dreaming about Youngho anymore, and that he was really there.

The real Ten would say he’s been itching to talk to Youngho for the past 24 hours. But, he tried to play that off, and didn’t want to look like a lost puppy without Youngho. In reality, Youngho spent the entire lunch period the day before looking like a puppy following Ten, but he found that kind of adorable. 

“Oh, yeah, hey. I’m alive, trust me.”

“Are you alright?” Youngho asked with genuine concern in his eyes. Ten wanted to die.

“No, I’m good. Just haven’t slept well, that’s all.” I spent all night thinking about how much I don’t want to catch feelings for you after speaking to you for such a small fraction of my day, let alone by whole life.

After they had gotten lunch, they had sat in Youngho’s room, just like yesterday.

“My dance students like you a lot, so far. And they don’t like English.” commented Ten, as sort of an icebreaker.

“Oh, yes. All your kids have some sort of aura about them. They’re all a bit mischievous, and very cute. They all seem much younger than they are. They do hate English, except — ”

“ — Chenle? He’s fluent. That’s why he loves it.”

“I imagine it. I loved English testing during teacher’s training. Just because I knew it and had mastered it from a young age.” Youngho’s tag on his left shirt pocket was dangling a bit. Ten had noticed because he was trying to find things he hadn’t already observed about Youngho.

Ten had felt awful about not listening. The words weren’t of interests, but his lips were pretty, and his eyes gleamed in the sun when the window allowed the light to settle on the iris. He imagined that Youngho would have called him out for not listening, and he would have gotten publicly embarrassed. Either he was watching too much porn, or he was just going crazy.

As if he had foreshadowed his future, Youngho noticed Ten’s eyes darting around, or his eyes dead staring at his face without any sign of attention. “Ten, are you listening?” he said in a slightly sterner voice.

“Yes, sorry, I am listening.”

“I asked you, whether you wanted to help me after school. There was stuff I wanted to put in the classroom. It would take forever for me to do it by myself.”

“Yeah,” he said. In his mind, he was in disbelief that he was even able to accept this offer. 

“Okay, tomorrow after school. Be there, yeah?”

The bell rang again. The students began to pour into Youngho’s room as he greeted them all with cheery good mornings. Ten nodded as his tanner cheeks glowed red.

 

***

Ten couldn’t stop thinking about Youngho. When he was making dinner for himself, he thought about how maybe him and Youngho could be making it together. When he was watching TV, he thought about what kind of shows Youngho liked. He was screwed. Really screwed. 

He watched the news, that came on every single weekday at 7:00. There was a treaty being signed to disarm nuclear weapons today. A woman had delivered a press conference earlier in tears, asking the country to help find her missing daughter.

He eventually realized he wasn’t paying attention, just watching it for background noise. He later felt a weight bring down his eyes, simultaneously a light feeling carrying him to his bed.

Not before the phone rang. Ten begrudgingly got out of bed, and answers it. 

“Hey,” It was Yuta. He probably couldn’t sleep. 

“Hey,” Ten yawned. 

“I can’t sleep. What’s up?” Yuta said, sounding boyish over the phone.

“Only you would call me at 11:00. Do you have any concept of time?”

“Absolutely not.”

“What was so urgent that you had to call me?” Ten smiled over the phone. He casually flirted with Yuta just to pass the time of him finding an actual relationship. 

“So now calls are urgent? Because yesterday you had called me just to talk about Youngho.” Yuta replied, in a slightly more serious tone. However, the voice was sprinkled with a joking vibe, so Ten had thought nothing of it.

“They aren’t,” Ten twirled his fingers in his hair.

Ten and Yuta talked about everything in the 20 minutes of conversation. Yuta had taught at a cram school, and one of his students was bold enough to ask him out on a date. 

“Did you say yes?” 

“No, you fucking idiot, why would I risk my own job.” Ten could sense Yuta touching his forehead, like he always did when he was stressed.

“Who was it?”

“Chinese kid, went to high school in China, but just needs to pass his college entrance exam. His name’s Sicheng. Apparently he’s not much of a talker, but he’s quite fond of me,” Yuta laughed a bit. “I liked the gesture, though. Even if I wasn’t his teacher anymore, I don’t know. I don’t think I could date any of my former students.”

Ten thought about it. He probably couldn’t do it either. He would have seemed like a creep, he had watched movies about an older male teacher lusting after a younger female student. He did not want an American Beauty-esque affair. Besides, young people were too much to deal with in relationships.

Ten decided to tell Yuta about Youngho asking him to help him after school. Which was a mistake, because him and Yuta began to freak out as if they were high school girls for another forty minutes.

“I told you that you like him. I can see the future.” Yuta giggled over the line.

“I’ve spoken to him for a total of two hours now.”

“That’s true, but think about it. That time will accumulate, in more tie. If everyone thought about their significant other in terms of hours, would it seem like that much time at the beginning? If you get to the point of dating, it will exponentially increase.” Yuta answered.

“That’s one of the smartest things I’ve ever heard from you. When you’re not making dick jokes and complaining.”

“Good night.” Yuta groaned.

Yuta almost never ended the calls gradually. The minute he wanted to stop talking, you stopped. “Good night.” said Ten, and he closed his eyes.

 

***

“Put the poster up there, like, behind my desk, if you can, please.” said Youngho as he wanted to pin another poster on the wall next to the left-side of the room. The poster that Youngho was hanging was of infinitives, and explaining what they were in Korean, and how they translated in English.

Ten was pinning a poster of Youngho’s late policy. No late work after 5 days of absence, and no late work after a day if you were present.

“I think that’s everything.” breathed Youngho as he pushed his hair back for a better view of his room. The hair had been flowing in his face for the past hour, because Ten had noticed how every two minutes or so, Youngho would have to push it again, so he just gave up.

“Thank you for helping me, it means a lot.” Youngho had walked up to Ten. Ten had turned around, quite startled by Youngho’s vicinity to him.

“Oh, it was no problem. It was fun.”

“Was it really? I almost fell on my face like twenty times.”

“I was nervous, too.” Ten smiled. Until he had realized Youngho meant that he was clumsy. Not that he was anxious to be with Ten. He wasn’t smiling after that.

They both stared at each other. The world began to flip on itself in Ten’s vision, his mortification at the silence was weighing on him.

Youngho put his hands on Ten’s shoulders, as if to give him some sort of unspoken consent before he leaned in. Ten’s body burned as Youngho kissed him gently, his hands roaming around his body, pulling him closer. Youngho’s hands had slipped underneath Ten’s shirt, touching the soft skin that was hidden underneath it gently, creating goosebumps into Ten’s skin.

They were both standing up, and clumsily stepping on each other’s feet, fumbling as they kissed, as they edged closer to Youngho’s desk. Ten held onto the edge of the desk as Youngho took the bottom of Ten’s shirt and slipped it over his head. 

Youngho had kneeled on the ground, looking up at Ten’s bare skin, starting from his lips on his neck and going down to his chest. Ten could feel the cold air in the room hit and he shuddered, both from Youngho’s touch as well as the breeze.

Soon after, Youngho began experimenting, and rubbed Ten’s nipple. “Oh my god,” he laughed a bit, but his head was spinning as Youngho’s fingers pressed harder, eventually replaced by his mouth.

The sensitivity was making Ten see two suns outside the very exposed window. Then, he remembered that he wasn't in a dream. “W-wait, we shouldn’t be doing this,” he panted.

Youngho didn’t respond; instead, he pulled down the bottom of Ten’s sweatpants, the ones he wore often when in the dance room. He glanced at his underwear, pressing his hand against the fabric, and Ten felt like he was going to explode from anticipation. Youngho took forever. In reality, he wanted to scream at him and tell him to get on with it, just suck him off, or fuck him, do whatever he wants. Anything for pleasure. Nonetheless, Ten waited, because he didn’t want to ruin this, all at the same time.

“Have you been thinking about me?”

“N - no, not really,” Ten was lying, and Youngho knew it. This was a terrible time to ask him this. 

Youngho was kissing through the fabric, his fingers rubbing circles underneath the bands that held it close to Ten’s v-line. “Are you sure? You’ve been on edge this whole time. I was wondering why.”

“Okay, yes, I was. Please suck my dick now,” Ten was being frank. He didn’t know what else to say.

“Beg for it,” Youngho cooed, pulling his underwear down and kissing the tip of his dick. He dragged his hands from the bottom to the top of the base, and Ten moaned shamefully, his own whimpers making his breathe halt. “Please, please.”

“Please do what?” Youngho asks, now sliding his hand up and down Ten’s dick, the precum slicking all over him. The friction was hot, too hot, and Ten wanted more. His hips wanted to fuck Youngho’s hand, but his other hand had a firm grip on his hip, and he really, really didn’t want to disobey him. As his hand quickly slid, he kept sucking on the tip, and rolled his tongue on the shaft,.

“Oh my god, please, please, please, please. Fuck — Youngho, please, oh my god, let me cum. Please don’t stop,” The noise around Ten was cancelling, and all he could focus on was Youngho. He stared at the door, the sensation overtaking the fact that anyone could catch him.

“Are you scared someone might come in?” he smiled as he took him in again. “Do you like knowing someone could see you?”

“Y - yeah — oh my god — I do,” Ten admitted. Finally, Youngho let go and Ten took Youngho’s hair and rolled his hips into Youngho’s mouth, his glasses looking up at him with big eyes, just like the innocent man he had met a few days before. He groaned around him, the sensation crawling on Ten’s spine. It was hot and wet, and he felt dirty, the fact that he was enjoying this. He wanted someone to embarass him and take a hold of him.

He slid out of Youngho’s mouth, feverishly edging himself to cum, and Youngho watched him. However, he overtook Ten’s hand and drove him mad, going up and down, fast and slow, and he was seeing the stars. 

“Cum on my face, okay?” he smiled innocently and Ten did so, all over his glasses, his cheeks, and his lips.

When Ten finally opened his eyes, realizing it was all over, he walked up to see Youngho wiping his face off with something in his desk.

“Do you plan to blow guys after school, or does this just happen?”

“Yeah, sure. It was totally planned.”

**Author's Note:**

> hope you enjoyed!!! i've never written smut before. ever. call me out OR leave comments i love comments bc they encourage me to write more


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